


My Birthday Girl

by countmeaway



Series: C'mon and Lift the Fog [5]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family, First Time Parents, Fluff, Kid Fic, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Post Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8045959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countmeaway/pseuds/countmeaway
Summary: A series of drabbles/short fics in the Turn My Dirt To Flowers 'verse, both during and post fic.





	1. What's In A Name?

Dean’s laying on the sofa, his feet propped up in Seth’s lap. Seth has a book open that he has rested against Dean’s shins, and Dean has his laptop perched on his belly.

They’ve been at this for the last few hours, and it’s getting infinitely harder to come to an agreement.

”How about Beatrice?” Seth asks.

Dean lowers the lid of his laptop, looks up at Seth with barely veiled disgust. “You’re kidding, right?”

Seth snorts out a laugh, pinches Dean’s ankle. “Jesus, yes. I don’t want our kid to be ridiculed.”

_Our kid_. It still fills Dean with a ridiculous amount of warmth, and he doesn’t think he’s getting over it in this lifetime.

There isn’t much time left before Dean’s due date, and of course, one of the most important things was left to the last minute. It’s not really his fault, though. Choosing a name for their child wasn’t something Dean wanted to discuss over the phone or over Skype, and Seth is such a busy fucking person it was hard to find time to sit down and really get into it when there was so much more that needed to be done.

(Yes, he includes having sex in that. His hormones are fucking ridiculous, okay, and he can’t help that his body seems to crave Seth whenever he’s around.)

”Alessandra?” Dean asks. It sounds pretty, has a strong meaning, and could easily be shortened.

Seth hums. “Maybe. What do you think of Bellatrix?”

”How about no,” Dean says, digs his heel into the meat of Seth’s thigh. “No Harry Potter characters.”

”Party pooper,” Seth says.

They go back and forth, trading and vetoing names. They go from Abigail - “nah, too common and plain” - to Ambrosia - “Ambrosia Ambrose, are you fucking serious, Seth?” - to Brenna - “’descendant of the sad one’? No, thanks.” - all the way through the alphabet until they’ve compiled a small list of names that feel like they could fit.

They take a break to eat and give their minds a rest, and because the baby keeps kicking Dean in the ribs and he can’t find a comfortable position anymore.

”Babe,” Seth says, after Dean grimaces for the dozenth time, holding a hand to his side where baby girl feels like playing soccer, “just go lay down upstairs.”

Dean doesn’t put up a fight, too uncomfortable and irritated, waddling his way up the stairs to their bedroom. Seth’s right behind him, book and laptop tucked under his arm, races around Dean to prop the pillows up in a way that’ll hopefully alleviate the discomfort Dean is feeling.

Dean sighs as he sinks down onto the bed, feels all the tension slowly sink out, aided by the fact that baby girl seems to have settled down for now.

”Did you wanna finish this, or do you want to take a nap?” Seth asks, curling up on the bed beside Dean.

A nap sounds really good, but Dean doesn’t want to put off choosing a name much longer.

”Nah,” he says, settling a hand over his belly, “we can finish this now. Running out of time, y’know? Don’t wanna get there and like, have to call her Baby Rollins for however long it takes to pick out a name, y’know?”

Seth blinks over at him, lips parted. “Just Rollins?”

Dean nods, swallows. “Yeah, I mean, I dunno, thought you’d like that.”

Dean’s almost done with the hard part, and Seth has been by his side through it all. And the baby is half Seth’s, has half of Seth’s DNA, and maybe somewhere down the line, they’ll all have the same last name.

”No, I mean, yeah, I do,” Seth says in a rush, “but she’s yours, too. I don’t want her name to not reflect that. I’ve been thinking of hyphenating it, y’know, Ambrose-Rollins?”

”I can live with that,” Dean says, swallowing roughly. It sounds so good to him, his and Seth’s names like that, and it’ll sound even better completing the name of their baby girl.

”Alright - ” Seth claps his hands, settles further into the mattress, opening Dean’s laptop “- let’s get this done.”

Dean shifts around so he can see the screen, and Seth leans further into his space so he doesn’t have to move as much. Pulled up on the screen is a word document with the list of names - both first and middle - that they’ve narrowed it down to.

The list gets even narrower, names tossed out on account of being too long - “how much trouble is she going to have with this when she starts school?” - or awkward sounding - “doesn’t flow right”.

Finally, finally, their baby girl has a name.

”This it?” Seth asks, looks over at Dean with eyes that look suspiciously wet in the light.

”Yeah,” Dean says roughly, feels his own emotions threatening to boil over. Their daughter, the one that has been kicking and rolling inside him for months now has a name, and there’s only a few weeks left until they meet her.

And when they finally do, baby soft skin swaddled in a receiving blanket, tiny little lips pursed as she rests on Dean’s chest, Seth’s hand covering her back, their eyes lock and they welcome her to the world. 

“We couldn’t be happier to have you, Hadley Jayde.”


	2. Turned All the Hills Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth is smitten

Seth is smitten.  
  
There’s no other way to put it, and he’s okay with that.  
  
The camera roll on his phone is quickly filling up, packed with photo after photo of Dean, of the baby, of Dean and the baby, of the three of them doing nothing but laying in bed, the baby curled up on either Dean’s or Seth’s chest.  
  
Seth hasn’t bothered to check his instagram since he posted the initial photo of the three of them, but both his and Dean’s phones were bombarded with calls and texts, well wishes and congratulations from nearly everyone on the roster. Truth be told, Seth’s a little terrified of what the fans’ responses have been.  
  
He loves wrestling, loves what he does, had dreamed about being the champion ever since he was a little boy, and their opinion could make or break him now. He hasn’t heard anything from Vince, or anyone else in charge, and that eases his worry some, knowing that if shit were really hitting the fan, they’d be scrambling for a solution, trying to figure out where to go from here.  
  
The fact of the matter is that as hard as Seth has worked to get to where he is now, as much as he loves what he does, he loves his new role more. Being a father, being with Dean, no amount of championship titles could ever change his mind, change what he feels deep inside his bones, at the very core of who he is.  
  
Seth has the weekend off, was told he didn’t have to make an appearance at any of the house shows, but was expected to be at Raw on Monday, and that suits Seth just fine. It was way more than he expected.  
  
It’s Saturday now, and they’ve been home for a day, adjusting to life as new parents. It’s exhausting, but Seth has never been happier, and he’s sure Dean would say the same. Neither of them have gotten much in the way of sleep, a ten minute nap here, a 15 minute nap there, despite both his parents and Roman telling them they should sleep when they can.  
  
Seth tries to get Dean to sleep, tries to keep him from moving so much, afraid that he’ll pop the sutures on his lower abdomen, but Dean looks at him through narrowed eyes, says, “Can’t, man, gotta watch the baby,” and Seth loves him, he really does, but Dean has this way of making him feel like chopped liver, even if he doesn’t mean to.  
  
“I am here, y’know,” Seth says, feels something like anger and frustration coiling in his veins. “She’s my daughter, too. I’m capable of keeping an eye on her while you nap. You need it.”  
  
“I’m not saying that you’re not,” Dean says, face softening. “It’s just, like, I dunno how to explain it, but like, I don’t wanna let her out of my sight, y’know? I know you can take care of her on your own for a little while, but like, she was inside me for nine months, and now she’s not, and I can’t control everything that happens around her anymore, y’know?”  
  
Seth’s anger and frustration melts away in an instant, and he wraps his arms around Dean, pressing a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “I can’t say I understand that exact feeling because I didn’t carry her, but believe me when I say that I would burn the world to the fucking ground before I ever let any harm come near her.”  
  
“I know, I know,” Dean says, places a kiss of his own to Seth’s cheek. “S’why I love you.”  
  
Seth smiles like an idiot, same way he always does when Dean says I love you, certain that he’ll never get tired of hearing those words. “Love you,” he says, honest and heartfelt. “Now go get some sleep, please. Me and the little one will be fine on our own for a couple hours.”  
  
Dean nods, pulling away from Seth’s embrace. He leans over the edge of the crib, petal soft touches as he strokes his fingers over the curve of the baby’s chubby cheek, and the sight makes Seth’s heart blossom in his chest, beating wildly with the love he feels for this man and their daughter.  
  
Dean places a chaste kiss to Seth’s lips on his way out of the nursery, and Seth watches him as he goes, taking in the tired slump of Dean’s shoulders, the exhaustion that weighs down his every step. He’s already pushing himself to do too much, and it settles uneasily in Seth’s stomach how bad it’s going to get when he’s out on the road, when he can’t be here to force Dean to sleep.  
  
Seth steps closer to the crib, peering down into it, surprised to see the baby staring up at him. “Hey, little peanut,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “What are you doing awake so soon, huh?”  
  
Her face screws up into a frown, and Seth knows what that means. He gently lifts her out, feeling big and clumsy compared to how small she is, rubbing his hand up and down her back, before the waterworks start.  
  
“No, princess, none of that,” he says softly, swaying back and forth with her. “Daddy just went to sleep. Gotta let him sleep, baby girl.”  
  
She lets out the tiniest of cries and Seth feels his heart ache in his chest. This little girl, his beautiful, precious baby, there is nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for her to make it so that she’d never have to cry another teardrop in her life.  
  
He settles into the glider with her, tucks her safely into the crook of his arm, rocking back and forth as he hums a lullaby he hardly remembers. She still looks like she wants to cry, but her blinking is veering toward sleep now, her eyes staying shut for a few seconds before they blink back open, over and over until she nestles into his chest, breath evening out as she sleeps.  
  
Seth twists and turns, trying to wiggle his phone out of his pocket without moving the baby too much, grinning in relief when she stays asleep. He unlocks it, opens the camera, taking photo after photo of the baby asleep, her tiny fist resting against her cheek, her lips puckered into a pout.  
  
He’s opening the instagram app and navigating to the last photo he posted before he even thinks about it, eyes prickling with tears at the overwhelming love and support he sees written in the comments. There are so many comments that say _congratulations_ , so many that say _she’s beautiful_ , but the ones that make his throat feel too tight are the ones that say _you deserve it_ , or _you’re still the man_.  
  
He opens the in-app camera, maneuvering around so that he can extend his arm, camera angled down at him and his daughter, snapping a photo and leaving it filter-less. It’s harder to type one-handed, but he manages, posting it a minute later.  
  
 _Thank you all for your overwhelming love and support. Dean and I couldn’t be happier, and we couldn’t feel any luckier than we do now. #thelittlestarchitect #sheisthearchitectofus_  
  
“More pictures?”  
  
Seth startles, nearly dropping his phone. “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says, looking over at Dean in the doorway.  
  
Dean shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep without you.”  
  
Seth stands and pockets his phone, gently depositing the baby back in her crib. A year ago, Seth would have laughed his ass off if you’d have told him Dean would openly admit to being unable to sleep unless someone was in the bed next to him, but now it only makes his heart beat a little faster that this is the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with, that he’s so fucking lucky that Dean will admit to something like that so easily. “C’mon,” he says, lacing his fingers with Dean’s. “She’ll be fine without us. And besides, we got the baby monitors for a reason.”  
  
Dean nods, letting Seth lead him to their bedroom. The blankets are mussed, like Dean couldn’t decide if he wanted to cover or not, and the pillows are thrown all over the place.  
  
Seth straightens the blankets while Dean climbs back into bed, fluffing the pillows beneath his head. He joins Dean a moment later, breathing out a relaxed sigh at the softness of the mattress. Dean pulls him in closer, until Seth’s head is resting on Dean’s chest, an arm draped carefully over Dean’s waist.  
  
It’s like all the exhaustion of the last few days has finally caught up with him, because between one blink and the next, he’s falling asleep, Dean’s fingers scritching across his scalp.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a lot of little snapshots floating around in my head for this 'verse, so this will be where they'll get posted. If you have any suggestions/ideas for things you'd like to see, feel free to leave a comment.


End file.
